


Immure

by CC_Writes_Stuff



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: 'Platonic' kissing, Awkward Kissing, Awkward Romance, Drama & Romance, F/M, First Kiss, Fluff, Just Friends, Makeout Session, Multi, Nightmares, Post-Timeskip | War Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Seven Minutes In Heaven Game, Sharing a Bed, Sharing a Room, Slow Burn, Truth or Dare, and is tired of watching Claude pine for Byleth, hilda's a little shit, hilda's outing everyone here, no beta we die like Glenn, verdant wind
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-10
Updated: 2020-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:21:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23086195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CC_Writes_Stuff/pseuds/CC_Writes_Stuff
Summary: Immure/iˈmyo͝or/verbenclose or confine (someone) against their will.OrClaude throws a party for the Deer after capturing Merceus. Hilda decides to play Truth or Dare. Byleth gets locked inside a room with Claude to play seven minutes in heaven. Shenenagins ensue
Relationships: Minor or Background Relationship(s), My Unit | Byleth/Claude von Riegan
Comments: 14
Kudos: 121





	1. Truth or Dare

**Author's Note:**

> Just fluff, the spurred by playing truth or dare with my cousins

For as many faults that Claude had, he had to admit one thing to himself; he was very good at throwing parties.

After the sudden and violent destruction of Fort Merceus, coupled with the fact that the army was soon marching to Enbarr, morale wasn’t exactly the best. Everyone was worried about the Javelins of Light on top of preparing and getting ready to go conquer the Empire, which they were also worried about. So Claude, in a moment of genius (if he claimed so himself) decided to counter that by throwing a feast. And this feast had two objectives - raise morale before the army went to Enbarr, and celebrate how far they had gotten so far.

Six months ago, the thought of just retaking Myrddin, no less about to march onto Enbarr and face Edelgard, was just another dream. But now, with Byleth by Claude’s side and an army at their backs, it seemed like anything was possible. In the span of a few months after Byleth had woken up, the army had-

  * Restored Garreg Mach (Somewhat)
  * Allied the Knights of Serios with the Alliance army
  * Defended Garreg Mach
  * Recaptured Myriddion
  * Captured Merceus (Somewhat), and-
  * Managed to get Almyran and Fodlanese troops to work together relatively well for one battle.



Compared to how Claude had seen people treat Almyrans and vice-versa, it went a lot better than Claude had expected. Not that he was complaining - if the Almyrans and Fodlandians could work together for one battle, it may prove that they could one day fight together in every battle. If things went his way. But for now, Claude would focus on enjoying the party/feast, now in full swing. He didn’t think he had ever seen the dining hall this packed or crazy a while. Probably since the grand feast after the mock battle five years ago.

A twang of sadness rung out in Claude’s chest, at how easy, how simple, how peaceful, life was back then. Not like Grondor, resulting in thousands - including Dimitri - dead. Back then, when the Deer had won, it had been an actual, good-natured win, with a prize included.

At Grondor, the prize was thousands of lives thrown away for Edelgard’s ‘better cause’.

It had only been a little over a month since then, and Dimitri’s death was still fresh in Claude’s mind. At the academy, he had never been too close to the prince, but he was still an ally, a friend, and his death still hurt. A part of Claude’s brain still wondered if things would be any different if he had tried harder to look for the prince, if he had managed to capture him instead of landing a blow that surely contributed to his death.

Another part of Claude knew that Dimitri was too far gone in his own mind, in his quest for vengeance, to be brought back.

Claude thought of Edelgard, too. Of the strong, determined girl, princess, warrior that Claude knew her to be five years ago. He thought of her strength during the mock battle, of her unwavering determination to fight, no matter how bad a situation got. He thought of the night he and the two heirs had first met Byleth. He wondered how life would be different if Byleth hadn’t saved her. Would they still be in a war? Or would he be back in Derdriu, while Byleth was doing gods-knew what? What about Dimitri? Would he still be alive, studying and training with him? Or would he still be calling for Edelgard’s death and the death of any soldier that crossed his path?

But he didn’t have much time to think about it, however, for Claude blinked when he saw a black glove being waved in front of his face. It snapped him out of his thoughts, and he focused to see Hilda in front of him, a pout on her face.

“Earth to Claude! Can you hear me?” Hilda asked, putting her hands on her hips as she leaned up to look at him in the eye. Claude let out a chuckle, rubbing the back of his head.

“Uh, no, sorry,” he replied, shaking his head. “I was… reminiscing, that’s all. What were you saying?”

“I was saying we’re going to play truth or dare by the fishing pond,” Hilda replied, before taking a wine glass off one of the trays near them. “You’re joining us, as well as the Professor, if we can find her.”

“You can’t find Byleth?” Claude asked, knowing it was useless to try and protest or squirm his way out of the game. Hilda took a sip of her drink and shook her head.

“Too lazy to look,” she replied once she was done drinking. “I just spotted you on my way over to the doors, so I figured I may as well tell you. You seem to be the only person who’s able to find her, aside from Bernedetta and Felix.”

Claude frowned, but sighed and nodded. “Alright, I’ll go look for her,” he said. “Next time, you’re doing it, though. I’m not your personal servant.”

Hilda batted her eyes at him. “Sure, Mr. Leader Man,” she replied, before skipping off back to Marianne and Dorthea. Claude watched her go, taking a long sip of his own drink (He had forgotten he had it in his hands) before he went off to find Byleth.

Knowing her, she was somewhere off to the side of the party, observing the festivities but not actually participating (Other than stepping in to occasionally get some food or a new drink). If she wasn’t here, well, Claude would assume she was back in her room or at the Goddess tower, somewhere peaceful where she wouldn’t be found or disturbed. But, tonight, she was there.

Claude found her sequestered in the corner of the dining hall, a bottle of some alcohol in her hand, reading a small book. She was sitting on the actual table itself, cross-legged, balancing the book on her knee while she held the drink and a small plate of food with her hands.

“You know, wallflowers rarely have fun, Teach,” Claude said as he walked over to her. Byleth looked up from her book and gave a small, quick smile, the kind that only lasted a half-second and crinkled the corners of her eyes, but nothing else.

“Hello, Claude, and I’m having enough fun right here,” Byleth replied simply, setting her plate down and closing her book. If Claude didn’t know her any better, he would’ve thought she was being sarcastic. Maybe a part of her was. But either way, he decided to play along.

“You sure? Because I’ve been in the corner of parties more than a few times in my life. It’s never as fun as you may think it’s going to be.”

“Is that so?” Byleth asked, picking up the book and setting it beside her as she rose a brow. Claude chuckled.

“Mostly it’s during all those fancy noble balls, but those are boring enough on its own,” he replied, placing his hands on the back of his head and lacing his fingers together. “Come on, you’re not planning on staying here all night.”

Byleth shrugged, picking up the plate and balancing it on her knee once more. “Too many people in the crowd,” she replied, a slight frown crossing her face. Her eyes drifted to the expanse of the dining hall, filled with soldiers, mercenaries, and even a few merchants and vendors. Then those sea-green orbs darted back to him. “The only reason I’m here is because of the food.”

“That… sounds about right,” Claude stated, frowning, before closing the distance between them, winking. “But you’re not sitting on a table eating... hors d'oeuvres all night by yourself.”

“What makes you so sure about that, von Reigan?”

“Because we’re partners in this war, and Hilda is forcing me to go to truth and dare with her. If I have to suffer through hours worth of her giving out the most embarrassing truths and dares known to man, then so do you.”

Once more, Byleth quirked up a brow, but didn’t say anything. Instead, she just looked at him, one hand on her hors d'oeuvres as she slowly took a sip from her drink. Claude sighed and rolled his eyes.

“Teach, don’t forget you made me sit through you and the girls’ hair-braiding session last week,” he replied, glowering at her, before tugging a hand through his hair. “My hair still hasn’t recovered.”

Byleth sighed good-naturedly, but set her plate down and slid off the table. Claude beamed, shooting a wink at her.

“Thank you, Teach,” he replied, a hint of smugness in his voice.

“Yeah yeah,” Byleth said. She grabbed her book, handed it to Claude, and then grabbed her drink and hors d'oeuvres. “Where is it at?”

“Right by the fishing pond, milady,” Claude replied, doing an exaggerated bow. If Byleth rolled her eyes, Claude didn’t see it, but she brushed by him, lightly cuffing him on the back of the head. He gaped, straightening up, and putting a hand to the back of his head. “Hey!”

“You earned it,” is all Byleth replied as she disappeared through the crowd. Claude frowned, before chuckling and chasing after her, squeezing past a group of drunk mercenaries singing together.

Once they stepped out onto the balcony, Claude was grateful Hilda had chosen to do it out here. It was a lot cooler out in the dimming sky than it was in the dining hall, surrounded by freshly cooked food and drunk, sweaty soldiers.

Already, there was a group of people sitting in a small, lopsided circle by the docks when Claude and Byleth got there, illuminated by the occasional candle. He spotted a few faces - Marianne and Hilda right by the dock, Linhardt leaning on Caspar’s shoulders, a grumpy-looking Felix sitting next to a half-drunk Sylvain, with Ingrid sitting on his other side and sighing every so often.

“There are more people out here than I expected there to be,” Byleth said quietly as the two descended the steps. Claude nodded, but Hilda spoke before he could reply.

“Hey, Claude and the Professor are here! Scooch over, everyone, and let them sit down,” Hilda called out, raising a hand. Some people looked over at them, before most people scooched back to give them some room. Claude and Byleth took a seat right next to each other, seated in-between Dorthea and Ashe. Even Catherine and Shamir were there, the latter sharpening a dagger on a whetstone.

“Alright, who’s next?” Hilda asked, looking around. Petra cleared her throat, and Claude glanced her way as he tried to get comfortable.

“I believe it was Ignatz’s turn,” she said, and Claude crossed his legs as he looked to the artist, rubbing the back of his neck. Hilda clapped her hands together and leaned forward.

“Alright! Ignatz, truth or dare?”

“Uh, truth,” Ignatz replied.

“If you had to choose, would you rather have a broken arm or leg, and why?”

Ignatz hummed, before looking up and giving a nod. “Broken leg. If I broke my arm, I wouldn’t be able to paint. Or sketch.”

Hilda nodded. “Alright,” She said, before looking to Ignatz’s left, where Caspar sat. “Caspar, truth or dare.”

“Dare, obviously!” Caspar announced, flexing his arms. Hilda giggled, and Claude side-eyed Byleth as he took a sip of his drink. She didn’t notice, though - she was too busy picking at her hors d'oeuvres.

“Alright! In that case, let two people of your choice put you in a pose, and you have to hold it until your next turn.”

“Challenge accepted!” Caspar called out, standing up, startling poor Linhardt. A few hands shoot up, including Claude, and he watched as Caspar looked about the group, before choosing Shamir and Sylvain.

Claude and the rest of the group watched as the two helped put Caspar into a rather difficult-to-hold looking pose. He was standing on one leg, bent, with his other foot resting on his knee and arms spread out.

“Now let’s see if you can hold that pose until next round! Linhardt, it’s your turn!”

One by one, the group went around, doing various different truths and ridiculous dares. Dorthea had to serenade Ashe, and Claude got to learn the very interesting truth from Lysithea that he would be the worst person to date in this group. Eventually, it went around until it hit him.

“Okay, Claude! Truth or dare?” Hilda asked, leaning back with a grin on her face. Claude smiled, taking a sip of his drink.

“Truth,” he said. He would rather reveal his most embarrassing secrets than suffer through one of the outrages dares Hilda could come up with.

Hilda hummed, tapping her fingers on her chin, before smiling. “If you had to choose between going naked right now or having your thoughts appear in a bubble over your head, what would you choose?”

“Going naked,” Claude answered immediately. “I’d rather be laughed to death rather than have everyone know what I’m saying. I can’t be the every mysterious and charming leader I am right now if everyone knows what I’m thinking.”

“Amen to that,” Yuri said, from the other side of the circle, raising his glass. Claude did the same, shooting a wink at the leader of the Ashen Wolf house. Hilda giggled, before focusing her eyes on Byleth.

“Your turn, Professor! Truth or dare?”

“Dare,” Byleth replied with a simple nod, looking up from her plate, finally clean.

“Bad choice,” Claude whispered in her ear. Byleth swatted him away, and Claude watched as Lorenz had to crab-walk over to Byleth, before giving her a hug, as part of one of his dares. The glare the noble gave him was the only reason Claude didn’t burst out laughing.

“From now until your next turn, every time someone talks, interrupt them by saying ‘that’s a lie’. Got it?”

Byleth nodded, crossing her legs. Claude frowned.

“How come you got-”

“That’s a lie,” she whispered back. Claude sighed and rolled his eyes, leaning back and taking a sip of his drink as Ashe went, occasionally interrupted by Byleth. Eventually, it got to Felix, and Claude shook his head as Felix chose dare.

“Felix, for your dare, you get to sit on the shoulders of the person to your left for the rest of the game,” Hilda said with a sharp grin.

“That’s a lie.”

Felix sputtered, red face, and Claude heard a few giggles and laughs from the group around them. Sylvain started laughing, too, probably at least a little drunk.

“Do I have to?” Felix asked, covering his face with his hands.

“That’s a lie.”

“Yes.” Hilda replied with a sharp nod.

“That’s a lie.”

Felix groaned, but complied and kept swearing as he tried to clamber up onto Sylvain’s shoulders, the latter laughing as he tried to not make Felix fall.

“When we get to you, I’m calling the shots, Goneril,” Felix grumbled, and Hilda started to laugh.

“That’s a lie.”

“Oh, come onnn, Felixsss!” Sylvain slurred. “Lighten up a little! It’s jus’ a game!”

“That’s a lie.”

“A game I never should’ve joined,” Felix grunted.

“That’s a lie.”

“Alright, my turn!” Annette interrupted, clapping her hands together.

“That’s a lie.”

“Annette, what do you want?” Hilda asked.

“That’s a lie.”

“Truth!”

“That’s a lie.”

“What’s the longest you’ve gone wearing the same outfit?”

“That’s a lie.”

Annette hummed, tapping her finger on her chin. Then she rubbed the back of her head, a slight blush appearing on her face. “Uh… maybe… four days… or five.”

“That’s a lie.”

Eventually, it circled back around to Hilda, and Claude got to watch as Felix grinned, before saying, “Give the player to your right a piggyback ride around the circle.”

“That’s a lie.”

Marianne seemed much more flustered by this than Hilda was, who glared at Felix, but complied, squatting. “Come on, Mari. And Claude, I see you laughing - shut up, or I’ll shove you in the pond.”

“That’s a lie.”

“I’m not laughing!” Claude replied, biting the inside of his cheeks to actually keep himself from actually laughing as Marianne climbed onto Hilda’s own shoulders. Her face was as red as tomatoes, and she was covering her face with her hands when she spotted him looking at her.

“That’s an actual lie,” Byleth said, and Claude made an affronted noise, looking at her. Byleth was looking up at him with a slight grin on her face. “He’s chuckling right now.”

“Claude!” Hilda roared, and Marianne squeaked as Hilda stood up, racing through the circle to him. Claude barely had enough time to keep Hilda from grabbing his shirt, rolling backwards before scrambling to his feet.

“Byleth, help me!” he said, laughing, running away from an angry Hilda despite Marianne’s protests to slow her down. The rest of the group was laughing as well at the spectacle of Claude running from Hilda with Marianne on her shoulders.

“Claude von Reigan, get back here so I can haul you into the pond!” Hilda cried, and he let out a choked sound as Hilda grabbed his cavarat, pulling him backward, and it took all his self-control to not reach for his dagger.

“Let go me, Hilda!” Claude whined, frowning. “Come on, we all thought it was funny. How come I’m getting called out?”

“Because you started laughing first.”

“Okay, okay, can we come to a compromise? Because I really don’t want to take a dunk right now. You let me go, and I’ll do your work for a week.”

He could see the gears turning in Hilda’s brain when he looked over his shoulder at her. Then, she frowned as Marianne sighed from where she sat, red-faced, covering her head with her hands. 

“Make it two, and you got yourself a deal,” she said with a nod.

Claude sighed. “Fine, fine. Can you let me go now? I can’t breathe.”

“That’s a lie,” Byleth called out as Hilda let go of his cavarat. He frowned as he walked back to his spot, fixing his cavarat as he took a seat next to Byleth.

“How is Hilda still faster than me, even while carrying Marianne on her shoulders?” Claude asked Byleth. She shrugged.

“Well, she’s tiny,” she replied, before leaning over to him. “Hey, I’ll do half of Hilda’s work if you go get me more hors d'oeuvres and a glass of wine.”

Claude raised a brow as he looked down at Byleth, who was looking up at him with a slight smile on her face. He didn't really want to get up from where he sat, but he didn't quite want to do Hilda's work, and... well, he just couldn't say no to that smile. So, he shot her a wink and a smile of his own. “Done,” Claude said, standing up.

Over the course of the night, as everyone slowly started to get drunker, people left, one by one. Felix and Ingrid carried blackout drunk Sylvain on their shoulders back to his room, Lysithea fell asleep on Cyril’s shoulder, and Ferdinand excused himself because he, and Claude quotes, “needed his beauty rest”. 

Eventually, Hilda decided to move the party to her room, where it would be warmer, now that only a few people, himself and Byleth included, were left. It was a little cramped in the small room, with everyone sitting on the floor, but cozy. Claude took a sip of his drink as he watched the baton being passed over to Lorenz. By that point, everyone had started asking other people questions, though Hilda was asking this one.

“Lorenz, truth or dare?” She asked him.

“Truth. After last time, I don’t trust you to not give me one that will embarrass me to death.”

“Alright! If you had to choose one person in this room to marry once the war ended, who would you choose?”

“Out of the people in this room?” He asked and Hilda nodded. Lorenz frowned, a blush coming onto his cheeks as he glanced around, and Claude grinned. He knew exactly who Lorenz liked here. “I would have to choose Leonie.”

“Really?” Leonie asked, blushing, and she averted her gaze from him. Claude grinned at the noble, who glared at him with pink cheeks, before looking at Leonie.

“Y-yes,” he replied, glancing away, before nudging Mercedes. 

She giggled, taking a sip of her drink. “Okay, who wants to go next? I pick truth, by the way.”

“Mm, I have one, Mercedes,” Ignatz said. “Without saying who, but would you want to kiss anyone in this room?”

She blushed, covering her mouth with one hand, but nodded. “Maybe,” Mercedes said. Annette giggled.

“Oh, you’ll have to tell me later, Mercie!” She said, and Mercedes glanced away. Claude took a sip of his drink, only to feel Byleth nudging him. He glanced down at her, a soft smile on her face.

“I’ll bet you ten bucks it’s Annette,” she whispered to him. Claude raised a brow.

“Really? Mercedes and Annette?” He asked. Byleth shrugged, glancing over to the two girls, sitting next to each other.

“You don’t see it? It’s so obvious.” A pause. “Almost as obvious as Hilda and Marianne.”

Claude frowned, glancing at Hilda and Marianne, then Annette and Mercedes, before looking back to Byleth, winking. “I'll take that action, Teach,” he told her. “But only if you stipulate that Lorenz likes Leonie.”

“I saw that coming a long time ago,” Byleth replied simply, before taking a sip of her drink. 

“Oh really? How long?” Claude asked, chuckling.

“A few months,” she said. “Since Alillel.”

Claude hummed, leaning back. “Very astute eye, my friend,” he said. Byleth shrugged.

“I used to play matchmaker with my father’s mercenaries,” she said, closing her eyes. “I had an eye for that sort of thing. So far, my matches have been pretty good. Balka and Stalia even have a kid now.” 

“Matchmaker, huh?” Claude asked, glancing at Byleth out of the corner of his eyes. She was dressed in a simple blue shirt with too-short trousers, hair up in a ponytail. “Gotta say, never pegged you for the type.”

Byleth giggled. If there was one thing Clause had noticed about Byleth, it was that whenever she drank, she got very giggly and smiley. It was… kind of cute, if he was being honest. 

“Don’t tell anyone that, please,” she said, glancing up at him, before looking at Petra, who was now going.

“I choose dare!” Petra said, straightening her back. Dorthea, the one who had asked her the question, giggled.

“Sit on the lap of the person to your left for the next two rounds,” she said. Petra did not saying, but she blushed, and Ashe, sitting on her left, sputtered. Claude chuckled.

“I believe we’re getting to the crush reveal part of the evening,” he said to Byleth, raising a brow, winking. “Hmph. Secrets are about to be revealed, that’s for sure.”

“What makes you so sure?” Byleth asked, looking up at him as Petra seated herself on Ashe’s lap. The only thing that showed off her embarrassment was the blush on her cheeks. Ashe’s embarrassment was much more prominent - he was a blushing, stuttering mess, looking like he wanted to sink into the floor.

“That, for one,” he said. “Between that, Hilda asking Lorenz that one question, and the question Mercedes just got, well…” Grinning, Claude shook a sip of his drink. “I think it’s only a matter of time before Hilda starts peppering questions to everyone about their crushes. So, let’s sit back and watch this chaos unfold.”

Slowly, it went around, and Claude was right: they were starting to move over from regular truths and dares to the embarrassing ones. He got to watch as Dorthea kissed Ingrid (who showed up again after taking Sylvain back to his room) on the cheek, and he got to watch Marianne and Hilda do the tango with one another, as well as even a ‘spin the bottle’ between a blushing and red-faced Caspar and Linhardt.

Eventually, it reached the point where Hilda had thrown seven minutes of heaven into the mix. Claude got to smother his laughter as she practically shoved a half-drunk Catherine and protesting Shamir into Marianne’s room before continuing on with the game. He knew he should leave soon, before he got roped into it too. But at the same time, it was fun to watch everyone getting called out and pushed into awkward situations. Plus, he hadn’t gotten roped into that yet. Not to mention he felt a little too drunk to stand.

But eventually, it bit him in the ass.


	2. Seven Minutes in Heaven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As the night goes on, the dares and truths get more personal. Eventually, Hilda forces Claude and Byleth to play seven minutes in heaven by locking them in Claude's room

To make sure Claude didn’t get forced into any of the dares Hilda did, he did truth every single time. But Byleth was another story.

“Dare,” she said, swaying as she hummed some sort of song under her breath. When Hilda turned her gaze on Claude, grinning like a madman, he knew he was in trouble.

“Seven minutes, in heaven, with Claude,” she said, pointing between the two of them. Claude felt a flush of embarrassment (or was it the alcohol?) rush up as the other started to snicker and even ‘ooh’ and Byleth stiffened beside him. To protect his pride, he covered his face with his hands.

“Me too?” He asked, peering between his fingers at Hilda, grinning with a knowing look.

Oh, Claude _never_ should’ve told her about his crush on Byleth. Hilda snickered.

“Just about everyone here has done something like that,” she said with a wink. “You two are no exception. Now come on, let’s go!”

Hilda leaped to her feet, running over to the two and grabbing them by the arms. Byleth could only get out one squeak of protest before she hauled them to their feet and out of the room like a couple of prisoners.

“Sorry she dragged you into this, Teach,” Claude said to Byleth as Hilda dragged them down the hall, stumbling over his own two feet as he glanced at her, before looking away. He really hoped she couldn’t see the blush that had crept up his cheeks and neck.

“Ah, it’s not your fault,” she replied, and Claude saw her frowning out of the corner of his eye, before glaring at Hilda. “But you spilled my drink.”

“I’ll get you another one,” Hilda hummed, unfazed, her pink pigtails bobbing, and Claude sighed inwardly as he leaned forward to whisper to Hilda without Byleth hearing him. A spark of embarrassment rose up in his chest, too.

“You’re a vixen, you know that?” Claude hissed into Hilda’s ear as he dragged her along. “Oh, I never should’ve told you about that.”

“But you did,” Hilda replied, looking over his shoulder at him. He glared at her, but she looked away when he did, so it wasn't like it did much or have any effect on the pinkette.

“Screw it, I’m not doing your work, Hilda.” She just giggled as they stopped outside a room, letting of Byleth’s hand and open the door.

“Have fun you two! I'll be back in seven minutes,” Hilda said, before shoving Byleth and Claude through the door and slamming it shut. Claude stumbled to the ground, hitting it with a thud as a clicking sound sounded behind him. A jostle of pain blossomed in his shoulder as he hit the wood floor with all of his weight, thrown off-balance by Hilda's shove.

“Ow,” he grumbled, rubbing his head as he pushed himself up onto his feet. Maybe he had had a little too much to drink. Usually, Claude was much more graceful and nimble on his feet than that.

“You okay?”

“My body is; my pride isn’t,” Claude replied, getting to his feet and forcing himself to look at Byleth. Her cheeks were as red as tomatoes, and she was fiddling with a strand of her hair. “Sorry Hilda dragged you into this too, my friend.”

“Ah, I… it’s fine,” she replied, glancing up at him, before looking around. “Uhh, did Hilda really put us in your room?”

“Wait, what?” He asked, before looking around, and his eyes rested on Failnaught, resting on the pile of books on his bed. He groaned, closing his eyes. “Oh gods, she did.” Under his breath, Claude muttered, “I’m going to kill her when this is over.”

“It’s just a game, Claude,” Byleth said, a mirth of laughter in her voice, but he didn't miss the nervousness in it as well.

 _For you, maybe. But for me, trapped in a room and forced to play seven minutes in heaven with the girl I like, only that I haven’t told her I liked her yet, it’s sweet torture,_ Claude thought but didn’t say. Instead, he gave a nervous chuckle and rubbed the back of his head, trying to figure out how to proceed.

“I suppose it is,” he replied, walking over to Byleth. “Still doesn’t make it any less embarrassing or awkward.”

Byleth shrugged. “If you slam a bottle of wine before you go to bed, you won’t remember,” she replied. “I mean, you’ll wake up with a hangover, but you won’t forget.”

Despite himself, Claude barked out a laugh. “You do have a point, Teach,” he replied. Then he realized how… _rude_ , for lack of a better word, sounded, and backtracked. “Ah, nothing against you, Teach. I’m sure you’re an amazing kisser, but, uh… you, do have to admit it’s, ah, a… a little weird.”

 _I’m sure you’re an amazing kisser?_ Claude thought. _Ugh, nice going, brain._ He really should’ve stopped drinking a while ago. But instead of being affronted, Byleth let out a nervous giggle as she shifted in place, shifting her weight from one leg to another as she started to spin the strand of hair around her index finger.

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” she replied, almost meekly, rubbing the back of her neck, tomato red, barely visible under the collar she wore. “I’ve, uh, never actually kissed someone before.”

Claude blinked, surprised to hear that. “Really?” He asked, and Byleth shook her head, her blush deepening.

“No. My dad was never big on PDA’s, and I never really had a boyfriend. I just…” she shrugged, glancing up at him. “Never cared about it before.”

“And now you do?” The words fell from his tongue before he could stop himself, and Claude cursed the alcohol he drank. It was loosening his lips more than he cared to admit. Then again, as of late, he had always found himself saying personal stuff and sharing secrets he wouldn't share in the presence of others when he was around Byleth. It was an odd effect she had on other people (mostly him). “Ah, sorry, I, uh... I think that’s the alcohol talking. Though I both sort of expected and I am surprised by that fact.”

Byleth shrugged, untwirling her hair, and then she frowned. “Well, maybe, uh, once.” The frown deepened, the skin between her eyebrows crinkling as Byleth thought... remembered? Claude didn't know. “I think… I think I was drunk, and I was making out with someone... one of the mercenaries, I think... in a tree, and... I’m pretty sure I fell out and broke my arm.”

Claude blinked, before pursing his lips together and nodding. “Alright then. I, uh, don’t know what to say to that.” Another small fit of giggling escaped Byleth. God, she was really cute when she did that- where the hell did that thought come from?

“You don’t need to say anything,” she replied, snapping Claude out of his thoughts as Byleth glanced away to the door, then back at him. “I, uh… should we, uh… oh gods, this is so embarrassing.”

Claude frowned. “Do you not want to do it? Because I can talk to Hilda if you want me too. I, uh, know all this sort of stuff isn’t your specialty.”

“No, it’s not that, it’s just…” Byleth closed her eyes, the tips of her ears burning red. “It’s like you said: awkward.”

“Yeah,” Claude replied. “But, like I said, uh… You don’t have to go along with Hilda’s, uh… game? Plan?” He sighed and shook his head, rubbing the back of his neck in an effort to unknot the knots at his neck and shoulders. “I don’t know what the hell Hilda was thinking, doing this.”

Oh, Claude knew _exactly_ what Hilda was doing by doing this. Not that he would tell Byleth that, of course.

“Well, uh, do… do you want to… you know?” He asked, rubbing the back of his neck and taking a step towards Byleth. His heart skipped a beat when he did so, cheeks heating. She just had that effect on him, whenever he found himself this close to her. Gods, she was going to be the death of him one day.

Another tiny fit of giggling from Byleth. “You don’t need to be so nervous,” she said. Claude gulped, shooting a half-hearted glare at her.

“That coming from the woman who was just stumbling over her own words,” he retorted, and Byleth glanced away. Claude let out a light chuckle in response. “Kidding, kidding, Byleth.”

“You better,” she replied, although there was no heat to it.

“I am, trust me,” Claude said, holding his hands up. A part of him hoped Byleth wouldn’t hear the beating of his heart in his chest as he glanced at Byleth’s lips, peach-pink and full. Gulping, he took another step towards her, closing the distance between him and Byleth to the point where he could just lean down, and his lips would be on hers. She had to tilt her head up to look him in the eyes, and it always baffled Claude that she didn’t grow at all during her five years of slumber. Her hair (which was now cut back down to a length or two shorter than what it had before) grew, but she didn’t. Her presence and attitude suggested she was a lot taller than she actually was. Even back at the academy, Byleth was still shorter than him.

“Do you mind if I…?” Claude started, his gaze flitting down to her lips once more, before glancing back up to look Byleth in the eyes. She shook her head, and he gulped, feeling butterflies erupt in his stomach. “Alright, if you’re sure…”

“I’m sure,” she replied, her blush deepening.

Claude felt himself smile as he leaned down and pressed his lips to Byleth’s own, taking one hand and putting it on her cheek. Her lips were soft, tasting like… some kind of sweet fruit. Claude couldn’t tell what it was, but it tasted good. Probably the wine she had been downing all night long.

“Uhh, would it be weird to say that the wine you’ve been drinking is really good?” He asked Byleth, pulling back just slightly, but he could still feel her breath on his face. “What flavor is that? Cherry? Or Aliell Pomegranate? It's really... sweet, for lack of a better word.”

“Strawberry,” Byleth replied, glancing away for just a moment, a blush appearing on her cheeks. “And I don’t think so? Like I said, I’ve, uh, never really kissed anyone before.”

“I kinda feel as if I’m stealing your first kiss, if, uh… if I’m being honest,” Claude said nervously, giving a lopsided smile, more so to ease his own nerves than Byleth's. He rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand, before placing it on her shoulder, thankful she didn't have the amour plates she always had on for once - he could feel the warmth and smoothness of her skin through the silk of the shirt she wore.

“No, it’s fine,” she replied, her gaze darting to the ground, before looking back up to him, small and soft. It only occurred to Claude then just how long her eyelashes were, and… was she wearing makeup? It looked like she was, a light scattering of peach-colored blush on her cheeks, to match her lips.

“Well, in that case, do you… do you mind if I lead, my friend?” Claude asked, swallowing the lump that had formed in his throat. “I, uh... I do have experience with this sort of thing, after all.”

Byleth nodded, closing her eyes. “Go ahead,” she replied, her voice a bare whisper. Claude’s cheeks heated, and he let out another chuckle, once more to ease his own nerves.

“Alright, but fair warning, I am a little drunk,” Claude said, trying to keep his voice light. “So, uh, if… if you want to stop or something, or my body moves ahead of my brain or something like that, just say something, and… and I can back off.”

Once more she nodded, opening up her eyes, a soft smile on her lips. “I’ll keep that in mind, but I trust you, Claude.”

He felt his heart skip a beat at that, and he blinked in surprise. _I trust you._ That… was not what Claude was expecting to hear from Byleth. A part of him, the schemer, the loner, thought, _Why? I tried to use you before, use your power to make my dream come true. I’m the kind of person that can’t be trusted._

At the same time, another part of Claude melted at that. Since he was a kid, many of the Almyrans never trusted him because he was from Fodlan, angry and bitter at him for who he was. After going through the same thing when he came to Fodlan, he made sure to keep people at arm's length, make it so they couldn’t trust him, so that way he didn’t have to break that trust when he revealed who he really was, if he ever did so.

But hearing that from Byleth, soft and true… it felt… nice. In a way he couldn’t describe. Claude felt a smile curve onto his lips as he looked at Byleth, eyebrows furrowed slightly.

“Ah… thank you, my friend,” Claude said, trying to find his voice after Byleth, always one to surprise him, rendered him speechless. He chuckled, then, rubbed the back of his head out of nervousness. Then, an idea formed in the back of his head. A dumb and embarrassing one, admittedly, but an idea nonetheless. One liable to get him punched. 

“You know,” he said to Byleth, muttering under his breath at her, unable to keep a lilt of teasing out of his voice. Oh, he was so going to get punched for this. “You said you never kissed anyone before, right?”

He could feel her frown as she looked at him, curious and maybe a little cautious. Then, she shook her head.

“No... why?”

“You know, since we’re sort of forced into this little game of Hilda’s, maybe...” Claude’s words caught in his throat, and he took a moment to regain what little drunk confidence he had earlier. “Maybe I could teach you.”

It took Byleth a moment to piece together what he was saying.

“To... kiss?” She asked, her face turning a shade pinker than it had before as her shoulders squared. Claude shrugged, trying to keep an easy smile on his face, a part of him hoping she would say yes. At least he hadn't gotten punched - yet.

“Yeah,” he said, feeling his own cheeks heat up. “I mean, you’ve never done it before, and, well... we are kind of trapped here. And if you ever do get into a relationship, you might be bound to kiss said person, if you want to... Plus, wouldn’t you rather try it with a friend first than some random stranger?”

“I...” Byleth frowned, and she looked down, and Claude delighted in seeing that even the tips of her ears were red, too. _Oh Gods, how did he fall in love with someone so beautiful?_

“Again, you don’t have to, my friend,” he added, silently, before shooting a wink at her. “But if you want to try, well, I do have experience, unlike you.”

Pausing, Claude searched Byleth’s gaze, her body language, to see if she was uncomfortable, stressed. Maybe a little tense, but given the current situation, well... Claude didn’t blame her. He just didn't want to cause any unnecessary stress on her or make her do something she didn't want to do.

“Well? What do you say, my friend? Want to give it a shot?”

Byleth opened her mouth up, closed it as Claude flicked his thumb over her jawline, keeping his touch feather-light. Then, her eyes darted up to him, the faintest smile on her lips, the kind that crinkled the corner of her eyes.

“Alright,” Byleth said, and his heart skipped a beat.

“Really?” Claude asked, blinking, partly in surprise, partly in a jumbled mess of the fine line between friendship and love that he was currently treading.

Byleth nodded, her hand fidgeting at her side. “I... yes,” she said with a short nod. “I mean... it’s just a kiss.”

She frowned, then, almost like she was trying to convince herself of that fact. Claude nodded, the hand that was on her shoulder playing with the strands of hair there, twirling it around his index finger, before untwirling it.

A part of Claude wondered how she would look in a braid. Maybe he could try it, later, if she let him. 

“Okay then... tell me if you want me to stop.”

Once more, Claude leaned down, pressing another soft kiss to her lips, savoring the taste of strawberry wine on her tongue, the smell of lavender in her hair and on her face. Gently, he kissed her top lip, bottom lip, getting drunk off the feel of her skin and lips, soft and smooth. A sharp contrast to her calloused hands and the faded scars Claude had seen on her arms and legs before.

His hands moved of their own accord, the hand on Byleth’s shoulder dropping to her waist. The hand on her cheek drifted across her jawline as he pressed light kisses to her lips and the corner of her mouth, up her other jawline. It came to rest at her chin, fingers on her jaw, the top of his thumb resting on Byleth’s bottom lip.

Slowly, carefully, Claude parted her lips, just slightly, a silent question on his lips: _Can I?_

Byleth seems to get his message, opening up her mouth wider, just enough for Claude to slip his tongue in. He feels her suck in a sharp breath through her nose, pulse fluttering under his touch, back arching like a cat, before she relaxed, one hand even tentatively reaching up to grab the sleeve of Claude’s shirt. Claude savored her, savored the drunken feel of her skin where he touched her, savored the slow, shuddering breaths Byleth let out whenever he made a more daring move, savored the little noises she would make when he showed her how to tilt his head, reciprocate a kiss, all with the utmost care and gentleness he can muster.

Oh, this was dangerous territory he was venturing into, Claude realized as he nipped at Byleth’s lips. Damn the alcohol. It had made him a little more confident, a little more reckless than he would be, normally. But he couldn’t help it. He was greedy, selfish, and wanted more - wanted her. Claude was enjoying the small, hot breaths on his face, the shiver that went down Byleth’s spine when he teasingly trailed kisses along her neck, the little noises and gasps she made. 

"You okay?" He asked her in a quiet voice every now and then, pulling away from her lips, as much as he wanted to lean down and keep kissing her. Byleth nodded each time, never pushing him away or shaking her head, and Claude continued to kiss her, softly, gently. 

He had kissed people before, sure, both drunk and sober. But none of them had been like this. He had never gotten drunk of the feeling of his hand on someone’s neck before, had never gotten a tingle in his mouth when someone reciprocated, had never had this many shivers running down his spine. It was new, fragile, and oh so intoxicating.

Still, he forced himself to be content with this, to keep it slow and steady, to not do anything reckless that might nosedive their relationship, to prematurely end the feeling of Byleth’s tongue in his mouth. It wasn’t as if they were dating or anything, after all. It was just a kiss spurred from a game. Plus, just because he liked Byleth, just because she was letting him do this, didn’t mean she liked him back. As he said, it was a game, part of the rules, and if Claude wouldn’t force her to do anything she didn’t want to do. So he would allow himself to savor this one moment, at least until he could work up the courage to tell her.

A few minutes passed, and then Claude finally heard voices outside. He paused, and then reluctantly pulled back from a red-faced Byleth, smiled softly at her, but missing the taste of her lips on his.

“I think the time’s up,” he said to her in a quiet voice, letting go of Byleth’s shoulder and stepping back. It would be better for his heart if he stepped back now - if he spent any longer kissing her, and he may not want to stop.

“It felt a lot longer than it was, I think,” Byleth said, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear, her sea-green eyes darting away from Claude, before she looked back up on him, a shy smile on her face. “Would it be weird to say that was nice?”

“Well, it’s not the worst kiss I’ve had, I’ll admit,” Claude replied, before winking at her. “In fact, I’ll count that one in my top five. And for the record, you are a good kisser, considering this is your first real time doing it.”

Byleth’s gaze darted away from him as she shifted in place, no doubt somewhat embarrassed, but she was smiling and wasn’t yelling at him. Claude would count that as a win; he had once seen Byleth break the hand of a man who got a little too close to her for Claude’s comfort. Plus, anytime Byleth smiled was a win in Claude's book (although he was sure that smile would kill him one day).

Then, he heard a thud outside, making Claude jump. He glanced over to the door, looked at Byleth, back to the door, and frowned. He walked over to the door and turned the knob, only for it to not open. It clicked, but didn’t turn.

“Uhh, Teach?” Claude said, frowning as he tried to open the door. But it didn’t budge, and he scowled, hearing Hilda outside. “Hilda? Can you hear me? I think the door’s locked.”

Which is strange, considering how the doors lock from the inside for privacy. But now that he mentioned it… he didn’t see his lock, either.

“It is?” Hilda said through the door, her voice muffled. “Don’t the doors lock from the inside?”

Claude sighed. “Well, that’s my problem,” he replied, trying to open the door again. Still no luck. “Can you try it from the outside?”

There was some rattling, but the door didn’t budge. “Nope,” she said, and Claude sighed.

“Alright, hang on,” he said, getting to one knee and pulling out a pair of lockpicks from a hidden pocket he sewed onto his sleeve (with Hilda’s help).

“The door’s locked?” Byleth asked, and Claude nodded.

“Yeah, which is weird, because the doors lock from the inside,” he replied. “No worries, though, I’ll have it open in a second, and then you’ll be free to stuff your face with more hors d'oeuvres and get another bottle of wine while I go throw up in some bushes.”

“If you’re sick, you should go see Manuela,” Byleth replied as Claude started to pick at the lock. “Though I appreciate you not throwing up on me earlier.”

“You know I was joking, right?”

“Oh.”

Claude chuckled. “Well, I may not throw up tonight, but I don’t think I’ll be attending the strategy meeting tomorrow,” he told her. Then, the lock clicked, and Claude grinned. “Ah, there we go!”

He stood up, slipping the picks inside the little pocket on his sleeve. Grabbing the doorknob, he winked at Byleth, before turning the doorknob. This time, it worked, but he didn’t get far before the door hit something with a large thunk! He frowned, trying to open it, but it thunked again and didn’t budge.

Great. Just perfect.


	3. Locked In

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hilda forcibly traps Byleth in Claude in his room until morning or until Claude confesses

Claude groaned, trying to peer through the small crack the door had, but he couldn’t see anything, a prickle of dread crawling up his spine. Hilda had something to do with this, Claude was immediately sure of that.“Hilda! Something’s blocking the door or something.”

“Really?” Hilda asked, and Claude knew her well enough to know that was mock shock. Claude cursed under his breath, rubbing his head as a flush of embarrassment washed over him. He pounded on the door, vowing to wring her neck when he got out of here.

“Oh my gods, Hilda, what did you do now?” Claude asked in a whisper-hiss that he hoped conveyed the flash of anger he felt at her. Giggling sounded from the other side, and Claude set his jaw. Oh, he really, really should have left when he had the chance (although he did enjoy the kiss with Byleth).

“I’ll see you two in the morning!” Hilda said in the same sing-songy voice, quiet enough that only Claude could hear it. “And for gods sake, you better tell Byleth about your little crush.”

“Hilda, why are-“ he started, glancing over his shoulder to Byleth, still frowning. He gave a placid smile at her, hoping she wouldn't notice the flush on his cheeks or heard anything that he or Hilda said or was about to say. Claude did not need Byleth to find out that he had been pining for her for at least five years right now, not bare moments after they just shared one of the longest kisses of Claude's life (Hilda definitely waited more than seven minutes before coming back).

“Uh, can you excuse me for one moment? I need to yell at Hilda for a moment.”

Byleth’s brow furrowed as she looked down at him, but she nodded and took a step back, fading into the background of his room, thankful she didn’t question it or hear Hilda. When she was out of earshot, Claude turned his attention back to Hilda. Or, namely, the door. “Why the hell did you trap me in my room, Hils? And make me do seven minutes in heaven with Byleth? Which, by the way, was more than seven minutes.”

“Because I’m sick of watching you dance around Byleth, von Reigan,” she hissed at him, like a snake. Claude frowned, feeling a blush come up his cheeks.

“Why should you care about whether or not I tell her?” He asked, pressing his ear to the door to better hear Hilda. Then he glanced at the room, to make sure Byleth didn’t get close enough to hear him, but she was preoccupied, looking at one of the many books he had stashed in his room.

“You have been pining for her ever since the fall of Garreg Mach, and don’t try to deny it, because it’s true, Claude,” Hilda replied with a huff. “You believed for five years that she wasn’t dead, even though you saw her fall off the cliff.”

“Alright, you already know that I like Byleth,” Claude muttered, flinching at the memory, at her panicked scream as she plunged downwards into darkness. Even now, he couldn't get that image out of his head. He doubted he ever would. “But that doesn’t give you permission to insert yourself into my dating life. If I want to tell her, Hilda, I will.”

“Claude, we're in the middle of a war,” Hilda said matter-of-factly, but firmly at the same time. “We face danger and death every day, and we don’t know who’s going to make it through the day. You and I both saw what happened at Grondor, at Merceus, and we're about to march onto Enbarr. You never know when one of us might die, and… I think it would be better if you tell her before something… before something bad happens.”

“Nothing bad is going to happen to Teach,” Claude insisted. "All we have is this one last fight, and I promise you, I'm not going to die. And I'm going to make sure that Byleth doesn't die, either, not when we're so close to peace."

(Later, Hilda glared at him after finding out they still had enemies to fight in the form of Shamballa and Those who slither, as well as Nemesis).

“We don’t know that, Claude,” Hilda replied. “I know Byleth is akin to a Goddess of some sort if what she told all of us is true, but connection to a Goddess aside, she's still human, with a human body and the same durability as a human. And on the off chance something does happen to her, I don’t want you beating yourself up over the fact you didn’t tell her. And if you die, I don’t want it to happen without Byleth knowing how you really feel about her. So, you’re going to stay in there until you either confess or Byleth crawls out the window.”

“Hils-“

“Bye! I’ll see you in the morning!” She said, voice turning from grim to cheery in a single 180, and Claude heard her footsteps down the hall as she skipped or walked away. He gaped after her, despite knowing the pinkette couldn't see it, pounded on the door.

“Hey, Hilda, come back!” Claude called, but if she heard him, she didn’t respond. Claude opened his mouth, closed it, let his arms drop to his side. “Oh Gods, Hilda… Oh, I'm so getting you back for this later...”

“What?” Byleth asked, and he could see the frown on her face. Claude sighed, resting his head on the door.

“Hilda trapped us in here,” he groaned, quietly banging his forehead on it.

“What? Why?”

Claude sighed. He knew why, he and Hilda both knew, but… it wouldn’t be just that easy to tell Byleth. The only reason he kissed Byleth was because it was a part of the game, though he would be lying if he said a part of him did want to kiss her again. But it wasn't as if he could just tell her that out of the blue, that she trapped the two of them there to force Claude to admit his long-standing feelings for her.

“No idea,” he lied easily, shrugging as he turned to face her. “I think she’s still angry at me for the whole thing with Marianne earlier.”

Byleth frowned, taking a step towards Claude. He blinked, looking down at her.

“Uhh, Teach? Everything alright?”

She blinked, not looking quite convinced, but nodded. “Yeah,” she said, though something in Claude said she wasn’t quite telling the whole truth. “Just… thinking.”

“Ah, I see,” Claude said with a nod, before frowning. “Well, I think we’re going to be stuck here for the rest of the night. It’s late, too.”

“Apparently,” she said, before walking over to his desk, yawning, and she looked around. “Problem is, there’s only one bed, so unless you have a sleeping bag somewhere in this mess of books, I’m using them as a bed.”

“No sleeping bag, sorry,” he said, shaking his head, before looking around. “And, uh, sorry about the mess. I should get some of this cleaned up.”

“You should,” Byleth said, taking a stack of books off his chair and plopping them on his desk. They hit the wood with a thud as Byleth took a seat on the chair, crossing one leg over the other as she looked at him with that neutral gaze of hers. Claude raised a brow at her.

“Do you wanna help?”

“Unlike you, I keep my room clean. Other than the old box of lost and found items from five years ago I never managed to find the owners too.”

“That hurts, Teach, that hurts.”

“Well, it’s true,” she replied, a soft smile appearing on her face as she giggling. Gods, did she have a cute giggle, and Claude had to push down the sudden urge to close the gap between them and kiss her again, to feel the taste and curve of her lips, feel the warmth of her skin under his hands.

“Come on, Byleth. Help me and I'll let you take the bed tonight and I’ll sleep on the floor.”

“It’s fine, Claude,” Byleth said, shaking her head. “I’ve slept on the ground more than a few times during my time as a merc. I’ll wake up with a stiff neck and probably a hangover, but I’ll be fine.”

“Well, what kind of guest would I be if I didn’t offer you the bed?" Claude asked, raising a brow and shooting a smile at her.

Byleth gave a soft one back in return, the kind that made his heart flutter in his chest, the kind that would certainly kill him one day if he wasn't careful. One thing he noticed since Byleth awake from her slumber was that she had become much more expressive, openly laughing and smiling and talking to one other for pleasure instead of business. “It’s fine, Claude, trust me. Plus, I’m probably going to puke in the morning, and I don’t want to do it all over your nice bedding.”

Claude sighed, but nodded. “Alright, if you insist,” he said, before frowning. “I think I might have some extra blankets in a drawer somewhere, let me look.”

He walked over to his dresser, opening up the drawers until he found a thin green blanket in the bottom one. Pulling it out, he unfolded it, shook it, held it up, and frowned. It was a little small, about as big as his desk, and the fabric was a little old and torn. He may have to get new blankets and pillows once Hilda let him out of here.

“This okay, Teach?” Claude asked, turning to her. She nodded, standing up and walking over, her shoes clicking on the wood floor. He tossed the blanket at her, before looking to see if he had any more blankets or even a few pillows. Nothing.

Scowling, Claude looked around, trying to find anything he could use as a pillow so Byleth didn’t have to sleep with her head on one of his books. When he didn’t find anything, he turned back to his drawer and opened up a top drawer, pulling out some of the clean clothes he never wore anymore, some of which were his old uniforms from the academy days. His jacket was still there, a few sizes too small, and cape all wrinkle

“Here,” he said, turning to Byleth and shoving the pile into her hands as he kicked the bottom drawer closed. She frowned and looked down at it, before looking back up to Claude, one eyebrow raised. He answered her unspoken question. “Makeshift pillow, cause I don’t have any ones other than the one on my bed, and I’m _not_ letting you use a book as a pillow.”

Once more, she looked down at the bundle of clothes he shoved into her hands, before a soft smile came onto her face.

“Thank you, Claude,” she said, giggling. “Not the worst bed I’ve had in my years.” Then Byleth frowned, pursing her lips together. “Not the best.”

“Well, it can’t be worse than a river as a bed, hmm?” He replied, shrugging. “And if you do want to take the bed during the night, I’m more than happy to switch. If I don’t throw up first.”

Byleth glanced down at the ground, kicking some of his books away, before nodding as she dropped the bundle of clothes to the ground. “You sure you want me to use the clothes as a pillow?”

“Eh, I was planning on doing laundry tomorrow,” Claude told her. “If Hilda lets us out, that is. Not to mention I don't really use those clothes anyways - my old academy uniform is somewhere in that bundle. I haven't touched that in five years.”

“Do you know why Hilda would… would trap us here, after making us do seven minutes in heaven?” Byleth asked. Her cheeks turned a slight shade of pink, and she shifted uneasily.

Once more, Claude shrugged. “No idea, my friend. I think she’s just trying to stir up drama, knowing her. I mean, it’s not like we were the only ones forced to, uh, to kiss.”

Byleth’s brows furrowed. “Well, I bet we’re the only ones she trapped in a room together,” she replied, before looking up at him. Her gaze was sharp, then, if a little red. “Something tells me she’s doing it for more than just drama.”

Claude forced out a nervous chuckle, heart speeding up. _Play it cool, Claude, play it cool. Don’t let Byleth know you have a five-year-long crush on her, and that Hilda trapped you in here with her to force it out of you._

“How am I supposed to know? It’s not like I can read her mind, Teach,” he said. Byleth regarded him with a cool gaze, face blank, like she wasn’t convinced, and Claude tried to convince her once more. He shot her a wink and one of his best smiles as she continued to kick books out of the way to make a small circle to sleep in. “I bet Hilda’s just trying to embarrass me, like it’ll work.”

“Well, if you’re sure,” she replied, dropping it. Claude let out a silent sigh of relief.

“I’m sure, Teach,” Claude told her. He was partly convinced that was one of the reasons she was doing it, although he did know the real one. “You should get some rest, my friend. I’ll see you in the morning, and then we can dunk Hilda’s ass into the pond together.”

Another soft smile graced Byleth’s lips as she giggled. Man, either she really liked him back, or the alcohol was making her extremely expressive. “Maybe,” she replied, before taking a seat on the ground, pulling the blanket over to her. “Good night, Claude. Oh, and make sure to sleep face down so, if you do throw up, you don’t choke on your vomit.”

“Uhh, noted,” he said, frowning at her. Byleth shrugged.

“I’ve seen it happen,” is all she said. He gave a nervous chuckle in response.

“Night, Teach,” Claude said, before climbing in bed. He wasn’t going to bother changing into more comfortable clothes, not with Byleth around. Plus, he was really tired, too - he had spent all day on his feet, preparing for this party. It only took a few minutes for him to fall asleep, the taste of Byleth’s lips still on his.

* * *

Claude was a light sleeper. That had grown out of habit after too many failed assassination attempts by people when he was a kid, and it left him stirring at the slightest sound that caught his attention. So when he heard a quiet sound through the haze of his dreams, he stirred, blinking his eyes open.

The room was dark, the candle that had been in there burning out long ago. He froze for a moment, looking to see if something or someone was in his room, other than Byleth, wondering where the sound was coming from. And what it was. It was quiet, soft, like barely-mumbled words under a hushed breath. But the room was empty of people, except for Byleth, sprawled out on the ground, three of her limbs sticking out from under her admittedly-tiny blanket. It took Claude a moment to realize the noises were coming from Byleth as she shifted, tossing her head back and forth.

Groaning, Claude pushed himself up with one arm, focusing his gaze on Byleth. “Teach?” He asked in a quiet voice, mouth dry and cracked, loud in the silence of the room. No answer, but now that he was more awake and alert, he could hear her better.

Was it just Claude’s imagination, or was she… _whimpering_?

“Byleth?” He tried again, a little louder that time, pulling the covers off of himself as he tried to get a better look at her. Still no answer, but she seemed to be… shifting? Twitching? Claude couldn’t tell in the dark. “Hey, Byleth, can you hear me?”

She still didn’t stir, so Claude slid off the bed and tip-toed over to her. He knelt down next to her, frowning as he tried to get a look at her face.

Byleth was shaking, twitching in her sleep and muttering quietly and frantically under her breath, nose twitching. One hand was resting by her head, but it jerked to the side every now and then, like a cat's paw Her forehead was damp with sweat, hair sticking to it, and… was that a tear on her cheek? She was talking under her breath, so quiet Claude had to lean in to hear her.

“Nnh, come on, don’t do this to me,” Byleth whispered in a shaky voice, almost sad, but definitely panicked. “Come on, why won’t this work, just… just hang on, don’t die on me, please, Marianne's on her way, just... just hang on, please...”

Claude felt his heart clench when he realized Byleth was having a nightmare, and he set his jaw, pressing his lips into a thin line as he looked at her. Gently, he placed a hand on her shoulder and shook her, hoping to wake her up.

“Hey, Byleth, wake up, you-“ Claude froze when Byleth shocked awake, letting out a panicked noise between a shout and a gasp. She flew upwards into a sitting position, grabbing the arm on her shoulder with one hand, grip tight. The other flew to his neck, pressing the cold steel of a dagger to his throat.

Heart leaping up into his throat, Claude leaned back away from the steel of the dagger and held up his free hand as Byleth's gaze snapped to him like an apex predator, eyes wide and breath heavy, frantic, chest heaving.

“Woah, woah, hey, it’s just me, my friend,” Claude said quickly, trying to keep his voice calm despite the sudden racing in his chest. Instinctively, his eyes flicked towards the dagger, and then back up to her. Byleth froze when she recognized him, breathing heavy, hand still shaking, eyes still as wide as dinner plates, like she wasn't seeing him but seeing someone else - a dream enemy soldier, perhaps.

“Claude?” She asked in a quiet, shaky voice, cracking, and he nodded, gulping. Her gaze darted around the room, still dark, before landing back on him, and her stance seemed to relax just a little bit. “What are… what happened?”

“You were having a nightmare, my friend,” Claude said, and Byleth let out a shaky sigh, dropping her dagger-holding hand to her side and letting go of his hand, drawing her arm back to her like his touch burned him.

“I was?” She asked, voice impossibly small but loud in the silence of the dark room. Claude nodded solemnly, before placing his free hand on one arm in a feeble attempt to comfort her, draw her back to reality.

“Yeah,” he said, scooting closer to her and searching her gaze, wondering if he could do anything to help. From this distance, Claude could see the almost haunted look in Byleth's sea-green eyes and his heart clenched. “You alright? It sounded pretty bad.”

“I… I’m fine, I think,” Byleth replied, casting her gaze downward, away from his gaze, her shoulders bunched up like rags, bangs falling over her face to hide her eyes. It occurred to him how unkept her hair was at that moment - was it like that before? - as he raised a brow.

“You sure? Cause you just attacked me out of thin air.”

Byleth sucked in a sharp breath, and she looked up at him, eyes wide once more, definitely haunted, now, if the moon was shining on it rightly. It made his heart squirm in his chest - did her dream scare her that bad? What was she dreaming about, even? Claude had to guess that it had something do with one of the Deer or someone Byleth cares about dying.

“I did?” She asked, before cursing under her breath, shaking her head. “Oh gods, I… I’m sorry, Claude. I… I didn’t mean to… Oh, not another one.”

“It’s alright, my friend,” Claude insisted, grabbing her hands and leaning forward. Then he raised a brow, pursing his lips together. “What do you mean not another one? Has this happened before?”

“I…” Byleth shifted in her spot, not looking up at him, but her thumb started flicking over Claude's own. “I… I may have had a few nightmares before, in the past... in the past few months.”

“I pretty sure we all have, Teach,” Claude replied quietly. He knows he had had a few before.

Sometimes he dreamed he was running through the tunnels under the palace in Almyra, being chased by thousands of people. Sometimes they never caught him, and other times they did, hands wrapping around his arms and waist and mouth and dragging him back into the darkness of the tunnel, and they wouldn't let him go no matter how much he struggled to escape their grasp.

Sometimes Claude dreamed he was dying, falling off his wyvern and plummeting to the ground, time slowing down as he fell and he was struck with the idea that he was going to die, there and then, with his dreams still unaccomplished. Sometimes he got shot with an arrow and watched as the world blinked out into black, twisting in his gut as the others cried out his name. Sometimes he was simply stabbed, ran through with a sword, watching as the world moved on without him and he bled out on the ground, the others trying to get to him but unable to.

Most of the time, though, Claude dreamed about Byleth, more than he cared to admit.

The dreams were always different, but the same. Sometimes he dreamed she held out his hand to him, only to run him through with the Sword of the Creator, whispering curses about him being Almyran in his ear in a voice too dark and cruel to be Byleth's voice.

Other times, he dreamed she was bleeding out in his arms, wide-eyed and begging him to not let her die as he called for help, tried to keep her alive. Sometimes he was the one dying, though, with fear gripping his heart as he said her name before slipping into darkness.

Most of the time, though, Claude dreamed of her just… vanishing. The ground falling out beneath Byleth’s feet, her fingers slipping out of his grasp, or just fading into thin air while he held her. That was one of Claude’s fears, that she would just disappear, and that, she wouldn’t return.

“Can I ask what it was about?” Claude tried, brushing a strand of hair behind Byleth’s ear, before resting his hand on her cheek again. With his other hand, he rubbed circles on the back of Byleth's hand, keeping his touch gentle. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

Byleth made a noise, glancing down at her legs, before looking back up at him. “I was… I was dreaming that… that you died, and.. and that I couldn’t help you.” Her voice was quiet, soft, shaky, and afraid. It didn't seem like the voice of the famed Ashen Demon, but instead of a scared girl searching for her parents

“It’s just a dream, Teach,” Claude reminded her in the same quiet voice, leaning forward again and resting his forehead on Byleth's, a gesture of comfort. “I’m here, Byleth. I’m here. I'm alive.”

Byleth nodded, worrying her lower lip. “I know, Claude, it’s just… it’s never easy.” She let out a soft breath that sounded like a huff of laughter. “Which is strange, considering I only had two different dreams before I came to the monastery. But now.-" Byleth's hand squeezed Claude's- "Nightmares… seem to be more frequent than I care for them to be. A lot more frequent than good dreams, at least.”

“Get them often, huh?” Claude asked. Byleth nodded, still not meeting his gaze. “How often, if I may?”

“Three, some.. sometimes four a week,” Byleth admitted, seeming to shrink as she said it. “More so since Grondor.”

Frowning, Claude studied Byleth’s face, trying to spot any tell-tale signs of wear and tear. Now that he thought about it, it did seem like she was sleeping a lot more during the day and during meetings, and he often spotted her training way later into the night than she used to when he was coming back from the Cardinal's room doing reports or just wandering the grounds, unable to sleep.

“You are getting some rest, right?” He queried, flicking his thumb over her cheekbone. Her skin was warm and soft under his fingers, and Claude felt his heart skip a beat at that - was it normal to get drunk off the feel of someone's skin? Or was he just touch-starved?

Byleth’s eyes darted towards Claude, before looking away. “Some. Not as much as I’d like, or as much as I used to back... back ruing the academy.”

Pressing his lips together, Claude studied Byleth, trying to figure out what to say to that. After a few seconds, he took both of her hands again and stood up, watched as Byleth's gaze followed him.

“Come on, Teach, get up,” he said, tugging her arms. She frowned, but complied, getting to her feet.

“What?” Byleth asked, still looking a bit... uneasy, for lack of a better word. Claude gave a soft smile, hoping to ease her nerves.

“Come here,” he said, taking a step back, intending to speak. But it was doing so that made the moonlight hit Byleth, reflecting off her pale skin and making it appear to glow with some beautiful sort of etheral radiance. Light white moonlight clashes with mint-green hair, making that appear radiant as well. He can see how long her eyelashes are again, can see the fullness of her lips and the blush Hilda surely applied on her cheeks earlier. But more than that, Claude can't look away from her eyes, holding the secrets of the world, the stars in the night sky, and it snatched the words and breath from him.

_Fuck._

Claude had always entertained the idea that Byleth was beautiful, and even once made a comment to Ignatz, asking the artist who was more beautiful - the Goddess or Byleth, as a joke more than anything else. But looking at her now, like she just stepped out of some sort of fairy tale book, awash in the moonlight... Byleth was far more than just beautiful, having an elegance and radiance that maybe really could rival that of the Goddess'. 

Either way, it was liable to get him killed.

"Claude?" Byleth asked, voice a bare whisper, startling Claude out of his thoughts, and out of his staring. He shook his head to bring him back into the present and shot a nervous wink at her.

“Ah, sorry, I was... thinking," Claude said, gulping and hoping Byleth didn't notice the blush that had certainly crept up his cheeks while he was staring at her. "As I was saying... If you want to... I’ll let you sleep with me tonight. I’ve had enough nightmares of my own to know it’s always better to deal with them in good company rather than by yourself.”

Byleth blinked, and Claude wondered if that was a faint blush he saw on her cheeks, radiant and pale, and Claude knew he had to get her out of the moonlight before Byleth's beauty killed him. “I... I’m fine, Claude, really,” she insisted, her gaze darting away from him.

“By, you’re shaking,” Claude replied softly, using the nickname for her he only used when they were alone, looking down at her hands, soft and warm and small in his. He looked up at her, then, tugged her along with him towards his bed. “You’re not fine, my friend.”

“I am,” Byleth repeated, firmer this time. He sighed as he took a seat on the bed, still refusing to let go of Byleth's hands. That - that just wasn't going to be an option for a while. And for as much good as Byleth’s stubbornness was for him and the other Deer, it, unfortunately, extended to her as well. Based on the way her lips were downturned and her eyebrows furrowed, she was still a bit uneasy, too, unsettled from the nightmare.

“Are you?” Claude asked in a gentle voice, tugging Byleth’s hand again, a motion to sit down. She frowned, but complied, the mattress sinking under her weight, and out of the deadly beauty of the moonlight that shone through Claude's window.

“Claude, I said I’m fine,” Byleth repeated as she crossed her legs, and Claude raised a brow.

“You’re stubborn, you know that?” He teased, rubbing a circle on her knuckles with his thumb. Byleth sighed.

“I’m not being stubborn, Claude. Like I’ve said, I’m fine.”

“And as I said, you’re shaking, and you just tried to attack me. Not to mention you’ve apparently been having frequent nightmares as of late, so you’re not getting any rest, either,” Claude replied in a hard voice, a voice that left no room for argument. Byleth shifted, her gaze darting away from him, silent as the night sky, and he sighed.

“Listen. The war has been hard on me and the Deer, but it’s been really hard on you, too. Especially now that we’re making preparations to go to Enbarr,” Claude continued. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed you working yourself ragged the past few weeks, my friend. That’s part of the reason why I threw this party; I want a chance to allow everyone to relax and have some fun before we march to Enbarr.”

“And I was having fun, before I had that nightmare,” Byleth replied. Despite himself, Claude felt a smile curve onto his lips.

“I’m glad,” he said, before frowning. “But I want you to take care of yourself, Byleth. Especially since we’re heading to Enbarr so soon. You’re working yourself ragged.” Claude paused, pursing his lips. “And I’ll admit, I may be part of that reason, forcing the whole Acting Archbishop and leading the Knights on you, but... we couldn’t have gotten this far without your help. So, please, take care of yourself. I'm asking this as your friend, not your partner.”

Byleth let out a long sigh, and her gaze flitted back up to him, then down to her legs. “I am,” she told him, though there was no heat to it. “I’m fine.”

Claude sighed, leaning forward and placing one hand on her cheek. Byleth tensed, and she blinked, but leaned into the touch, a blush creeping up her cheeks.

“Look at me, Byleth,” he instructed, and she did so, eyes dark and wide and afraid.

“I know you’re always trying to be strong, if for the sake of the Deer and the rest of the soldiers, and I appreciate it,” Claude told her, before dropping his voice. “It’s just us here, though. You don’t have to be strong for me.”

Byleth’s grip on his hands tightened, and Claude felt a lump form in his throat.

“I... I’m scared, Claude,” she admitted, her voice quiet and - dare he say - meek. She still didn't meet his gaze, eyes looking down at the bed - his hands? - like she was ashamed by the fact.

“About what?” He asked, keeping his voice low, flicking his thumb over her cheek. Claude’s gaze flitted to Byleth’s lips, and he forced himself to look back up at Byleth’s eyes before she caught him doing so.

“I don’t know. I think it has something to do with Enbarr, but…” Byleth sighed, shook her head. “I’m scared, Claude. And I _hate_ it.”

Claude nodded in response. “Is there anything I can do to help? Or do you just want me to listen?”

She shrugged, tapping one of her fingers on Claude’s knuckle. A nervous tic, if he had to guess. “Right now, I just want to sleep one night without any nightmares,” Byleth said to him, voice quiet as an old tree, her gaze finally darting back up to meet his own gaze.

“Well, I can’t promise that I’ll drive away any nightmares, my friend, but… I’ll be here to comfort you if you get another one,” Claude said, tapping her cheek, feeling a flush come up his neck as he did so. “Here, you can sleep with me for a bit, if, uh… if you don’t mind, that is.”

Byleth’s brow furrowed. “The bed’s small,” She pointed out. Claude let out a chuckle in response.

“That it is,” he said, thankful it was dark enough to hide his blush. Then, remembering the kiss from earlier in the evening, he gulped. “If you want to, that is.”

The crease between her eyes deepened as she rapped her fingers on Claude’s hand, seeming to weigh the pros and cons. Maybe he was still a little bit drunk, but was Byleth blushing? After a few seconds, she glanced away, nodded.

“...Sure,” she said, and Claude felt his heart skip a beat.

“Really?” He asked, before grinning and shooting a wink at her in an attempt to lighten the mood and get some hint of a smile on her face. He hated seeing Byleth so sad and scared like that. “Hah! How scandalous, Teach, sleeping in a student’s bed.”

“You’re not my student anymore,” Byleth replied easily, shrugging, still keeping her gaze averted from him. “Besides, we’re just sleeping, not… doing other things.”

Feeling his mouth dry, Claude nodded in response. “Yeah,” he said with a nod, rubbing the back of his neck. Then, he tapped Byleth’s hand. “Come on, we should get some rest. No use in you falling asleep in the middle of a meeting.”

“It’s cramped,” she observed, letting go of his hands and rubbing her arms, shivering. Claude shrugged, trying not to feel too upset about the loss of contact with her hands.

“It’s all we got,” he replied, before frowning. “You cold?”

“A little,” Byleth said, nodding. He chuckled again.

“Well, my blankets are pretty big. You should get warm soon,” Claude told her, before flopping back down onto the bed and turning to the side. “Come on, let’s get some rest.”

Byleth laid down, too, back to the wall and facing him, face just a few inches from Claude, and he felt his heart skip a beat. Her movements were quiet, soft, the skill of a mercenary. Claude leaned forward, pulling the blanket up towards them.

“Thanks for doing this, Claude,” Byleth said, her voice quiet, eyes closed. Claude paused, before nodding.

“It’s no problem, Byleth,” he replied, handing her one edge of the blanket. “It’s the least I can do, after Hilda trapped us in here. That good?”

She nodded, taking one corner of the blanket and pulling it closer to her shoulder, before resting her arm on the bed, just bare inches from his chest. Claude suddenly realized how dangerous it was, being this close to Byleth. He couldn’t help but direct his gaze towards her lips, soft and sweet.

Pushing down the sudden urge to lean forward and kiss her again, Claude gulped, closed his eyes. “I’m glad,” he croaked out, giving a weak smile. “Get some rest, Byleth, and if anything’s uncomfortable, just tell me. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“You okay?” Byleth asked, and Claude opened his eyes. She was staring at him, gaze a mixture of worried and confused. “You seem really… what’s the word…? Tense.”

He chuckled nervously, glancing away, before looking back to Byleth. “Maybe a little bit,” he admitted, and he paused, wondering how much he could - wanted - to say to her. “It’s just… I’ve told you about the assassination attempts on me when… when I was a kid, and… well, I started to sleep lightly out of necessity, so… it’s a little… unnerving, sleeping this close to someone. It makes me feel… vulnerable.”

“Do you want me to move?” Byleth asked a note of worry in her voice as she rose her head off her end of the pillow. “I don’t want to intrude if it makes you uncomfortable.”

Claude held up a hand in response. “It’s fine, Byleth,” he insisted. “I… I trust you.”

It was as he said those words did he realize how true that was. Claude didn’t know how or when, but Byleth had sort of just… climbed over the walls he built around him and popped in to say hi. He trusted her, trusted her to protect him, to watch his back, trusted her to stay with him, to not stab him in the back like most people he knew. He trusted her, more than he could say in words.

This was _very_ dangerous territory Claude was finding himself in.

“You do?” Byleth asked, voice light and sounding as surprised as he felt, eyes widening just slightly. But Claude knew it with his heart - he trusted her, trusted her as much as he loved her.

“Yes,” he confirmed with a nod, voice quiet. “I trust you, Byleth. But you should get some sleep, my friend.”

Byleth nodded, a soft smile on her face, almost invisible in the dark. When she spoke, her voice was quiet, soft. “Thank you, Claude. I’ll see you in the morning.”

She fell asleep first, snoring quietly, her hair falling over her face and into her eyes. Claude reached up and brushed it back with a gentle touch, making sure to not wake Byleth up.

It took Claude significantly longer to fall asleep, mind kept awake by the sheer closeness of Byleth to him. Out of his habit, every time Byleth twitched in her sleep or made a noise, Claude was startled awake, a part of his brain expecting an attack, expecting his dream to become reality and for Byleth to run him through with a dagger. Claude knew she wouldn’t do that, to him of all people, but he still flinched, startled, and it took him ages for his brain to settle down again. It was so unnerving to have someone be this close to him, when he was vulnerable, especially considering Byleth kept a dagger under her pillow.

At the same time, though, it was… nice. Claude liked being so close to Byleth, even if it did scare him a little bit. With the war, Merceus and now Enbarr, he had rarely had the time to actually see Byleth and chat with Byleth for more than ten minutes. This sudden closeness to her was a sharp change in pace.

Gulping, Claude shifted closer to Byleth, suddenly wanting to be closer to her, and wrapped one arm around her back, pulled her closer to him. Byleth stirred under his touch, making a small noise of surprise.

“Claude…?” She asked sleepily. “What are you doing?”

“Cold,” is all he replied, an easy lie, tucking her head under his chin. He paused, then, said, “Do you want me to move?”

Whatever Byleth said was muffled, sounding more like a noise than actual words. But she didn’t push him away, pressing her forehead to his chest. Claude’s breath hitched at that, but he sent a silent thank you to whatever god or goddess was allowing him to be this close to her.

Then, after a few seconds, “What’s that sound?”

“Hmm?” Claude asked, glancing down at Byleth. “What sound? I don’t hear anything.”

“A thumping sound,” Byleth replied quietly, and she pressed his hand to his chest. It took Claude a moment to realize what she was talking about.

“Ah,” he hummed, chuckling. “I suppose you wouldn’t recognize it since, well, you don’t have one yourself, but… it’s my heartbeat.”

“It’s loud,” Byleth said. “Does it hurt?”

“No,” he replied. “Most of the time, I can’t really feel it unless I’m actively searching for it, my friend.” A pause, then he said, “Do you want to feel?”

“Your heartbeat?” She asked, and Claude nodded.

“Yeah. Do you wanna feel?”

A pause, then Byleth nodded and said, “Sure.”

Scooting back, Claude took Byleth’s hand in his, moving it around until he felt his heartbeat under his fingers. Byleth’s finger twitched, and Claude let out a breath chuckle.

“Well?” He asked her, searching her gaze and trying to ignore the shiver he felt running down his spine. Claude could feel the heat of her fingers, even through his shirt.

“It’s… odd,” Byleth said after a few seconds, voice quiet.

Claude shrugged, unsure of what to say to that. Instead, he said, “Let’s get some sleep, my friend.”

Byleth nodded, and rested her forehead on his chest again, and Claude nuzzled his head into her hair. It wasn’t long before she was snoring again, and Claude let out a long exhale, savoring the feel of her skin under his fingers.

Maybe he wouldn’t tell her today. Maybe he wouldn’t tell her tomorrow. But one day, soon, Claude would tell Byleth about his feelings for her. And maybe he would thank Hilda for forcing him to be trapped in his room and sharing a kiss with Byleth once he killed her first.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, all the nightmares Claude had about dying were, in fact, actual deaths he experienced throughout the war but at the same time didn't, courtesy of Byleth


End file.
